


feel like i'm made of solid gold

by belkastle



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anesthesia, F/M, For a Friend, M/M, Not Serious, Wisdom Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belkastle/pseuds/belkastle
Summary: sometimes you just want to laugh at simple things.a series of one-shot flash fiction pieces for @crowleysin of our random ships and ocs dealing with the aftermath of removing wisdom teeth.it's just for fun, characterization is loose, please go watch compilations they're a rush of serotonin.
Relationships: Billy Russo/Original Female Character(s), James Wesley/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. i feel it bubbling to the surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> daphne is an original character of @crowleysin's. she's a thief in gotham. this is heavily based on original content blending with superhero things so really just enjoy billy trying not to get into an accident, i guess

“I just don’t understand why we can’t go.”

Billy drags his gaze toward the passenger seat, brow knit with both amusement and unrest. Daphne’s sobbing into her palm, her elbow propped awkwardly against the closed window. He makes the mistake of laughing – she looks fucking ridiculous, completely out of her element.

“Because I’m taking you home,” he says.

“ _Home_?” She snaps her attention to him, her jaw falling. “You know where I _live_?”

He laughs again, fingers pressed to his temple as he focuses on the road.

She continues: “I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all – what – how did you find out? Did you _stalk me_?”

“I live with you, Daphne.”

“You _what?_ ” Her tears only increase in volume and intensity. She lets out a low whine. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s my home! It’s mine!”

“Yeah, but you’re letting me stay there. We’re dating, remember?”

She sniffles, shifting her jaw as she looks out the window again. “We’re dating? But I like – I like Richard.”

“Richard Thompson? The UPS guy that flirts with you? Jesus, Daph – you’re into him?”

“He lets me use his pen,” she whines.

Billy forces out another laugh. “That’s all it takes, huh?”

“Yeah,” she says noncommittally. “Are we going to Taco Bell?”

“You can’t eat Taco Bell right now—”

“ _What_? But I want the cinnamon balls,” she says, drawing out the phrase as her crying meets her passion. “When am I supposed to get them again? This is the last time!”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me,” she says, hitting his arm.

“Hey!” He laughs, gently pushing her hand back. “You can’t just hit people.”

“Uh, _yeah_ , I can. You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my dad!”

“Thank god for that. Sit back, Daph.” He pushes her back against the seat and, full of unbridled curiosity, she hooks her hands around his arm and pokes at the hairs sticking out of his sleeve. “Hey, I need that.”

“Shhh, I’m operating.”

“ _Operating_? Give me that,” he says, jerking his arm back. “Remind me to leave this job to Jason next time.”

She turns her head toward him, leaning against the headrest with a dreamy smile. “I love Jason.”

“I know you do.”

“He has my favorite t-shirt. It has – it’s got a little hole in the collar.” Her lips quivers. Billy catches it in his peripheral.

“Hey – it’s just a hole.”

She starts sobbing into her hand again. “It was _my_ hole. He took it.”

“I’m not going to break down the delicate details of you and your ex’s relationship.”

“He stole it from me!”

“I know! I get it. We’ll call him and—what are you doing?”

“I’m calling him.”

“Daphne.”

She pulls the phone to her right ear and leans up against the window as Billy fights for it.

“Jason?” It’s still ringing. She swats at Billy’s hand – he swerves a little, then quickly rights himself. “Jesus! You almost _killed us_.”

“I did not.”

Jason, having answered the phone, can be heard faintly in the echoing chamber of the front seats. “Daphne? Didn’t you just get your teeth removed?”

“Jason?” She cups the phone with both of her hands. “Oh God – what did they do to you?”

“What?” He laughs awkwardly.

“They put you in here ... dammit – okay, I’ll get you out, okay? Just – hold on! I’ll figure something out.”

Billy finally snatches the phone from her. “Sorry, Jason.” Daphne lets out a concerned whine. “She’s out of her damn mind.”

“I don’t envy you. Please tell me you’re recording this.”

“I can’t even – Fuck – Daphne, get back in your seat, Jesus Christ – I’ll call you back.”

He hangs up, practically throwing the phone down to her feet as he reaches back to grab her. “You want to get us killed?”

“I have to save Jason!”

“Get back in your seatbelt,” he warns, voice raising.

She stares at him, eyes wide, then slowly sinks back into her seat. “You’re _scary_.”

“Shut –“ he stops, lets himself laugh. “I am not. Buckle up.”

Her eyes water and she buckles back up, struggling with the lock. When it clicks, she sniffles. “You’re so _mean_.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe! Keep us alive. We’re almost there, alright? When we get home you can do whatever you want.”

She purses her lips, meaning to pout, but the numbness pulls her attention. She slowly blows air out of her mouth, then touches her lips to be sure they’re still there.

“They ... they took my lips.”

“Oh no.”

“Bill, they took my _lips_ ,” she says, her voice straining into a long cry. “What am I going to do without _lips_?”

He groans, but it leans into an amused chuckle. “I can’t deal with this.”

“I can’t use _chapstick_.”

“You lose your lips and _that’s_ what you’re worried about?”

“But I love strawberries, Bill.”

“You can still use chapstick.”

She reaches over, places a hand on his arm. “Promise?”

“I promise, alright? Your lips are perfect and perfectly in place. Don’t worry.”

She smiles warmly, though it’s a ridiculous enough sight that he starts laughing again, tears teasing the edges of his eyes now.


	2. lost boys like me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no one really needs to humanize james wesley, but i can't fucking help but be soft on this asshole, so. james, but post-wisdom teeth removal shenanigans? that's so silly to say every time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> james is still a villain, but this time he's dating @crowleysin's original character jack nishijima. he's a necromancer. that's cool!

“Alright, James. It’s been three minutes and you’re just staring at the – what is that, the drawer by the fridge?”

Jack squints as he attempts to follow his line of sight, tracing the air. James tilts his head toward him conspiratorially, but never looks away. His cheeks puff out like a rodent’s.

“I’m waiting,” he murmurs.

Jack leans in, humoring him. “For what?” he whispers back.

“I know she’s in there.”

“Who’s in there?”

“Tink.”

“T – Tink?” Jack chokes back a laugh. “From Peter Pan?”

He hums, straightens his posture. “You can’t underestimate them, okay? They’re _smart_.”

“Are you processing your trauma right now?”

“What’s a trauma?” He tears his gaze away from the drawer long enough to look at Jack like he’s speaking a lost language.

“A bad experience of your past. Tinkerbell. She’s a manifestation of-“

“Whoa, man!” He throws his hands up. Jack leans back to give him the space he’s suddenly demanding. “I don’t know what the hell you’re saying!”

“What? I’m just –“

“Oh my _god_ , what?” His jaw drops as he stares at him. “Jack? I can’t – I don’t know what you’re telling me.”

The necromancer raises his eyebrows, giving his boyfriend a second to process, then slowly spells it out for him as patiently as he can: “I’m speaking English.”

“I don’t know English.”

“You are currently speaking English, James.”

He laughs through the gauze and sinks into the chair, his bottom lip pushing forward in a pout. “I don’t know it. You don’t know me, Jack.”

“I literally know you.” He sighs, leaning against the arm of the chair as he looks back to the drawer. “You want me to check it?”

“Check what?

“I’ll take that as a no,” he laughs.

He points to the drawer again. “If you don’t get her, she’ll dust us.”

“Tinkerbell’s not a bad person, James.”

“She’s not?” He frowns dubiously.

“Nah,” Jack says. He shrugs a shoulder. “Her fairy dust makes you fly if you think happy thoughts.”

“What the hell?” His eyes widen. “She can _fly_?”

Jack chuckles. “Yeah. She’s a fairy.”

“That’s horrifying!”

“You and I have both seen worse.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head as rapidly as he can. Jack reaches up to touch his hair, some small gesture to get him to relax. “She’s going to kill us, Jack.”

“No one is going to die! You’re so morbid.”

“You can’t die, okay?” He grabs his wrist tightly, then reaches instead for his shirt. “You can’t die. I’ll be really –“ He chokes out a sob. “Really upset, okay?”

Jack laughs softly and rubs his hand soothingly along James’ arm. “Will you stop worrying? I’m fine.”

“No you’re not,” he says softly. He sniffles almost violently, but another sob breaks through. Snot starts to dribble out of his nose and when he instinctively reaches for it, he freezes. “Oh no – oh god, no I’m leaking. It’s starting. It’s coming out of me – why am I leaking?”

“You’re just crying.”

“I’m falling apart – Jack, I’m falling apart.”

He shifts to stand in front of him and cups his cheeks in his hand. “James.”

“What,” he says, the word muffled and frail.

“Repeat after me: I am James Wesley.”

“I’m James Wesley,” he says, blinking up at him with bemused, but wide eyes.

“I am okay.”

“You are?”

“No – repeat it, James.”

He squints. “It, James.”

“Jesus-“

“Jesus.”

“Okay – no. Just – you have nothing to be afraid of.”

He snorts softly. “Uh, you can’t prove that. Everyone’s afraid of something all the time, Jack.”

He smirks, drops his hands. “That’s very philosophical of you, considering.”

“You’re very philosophical.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, dropping his gaze to his hands. Jack can’t recall the last time he’s seen James _slump_ like this.

He watches him for a moment, then slowly steps back toward his seat on the sofa again. James glances toward him briefly, then back to his hands, then back up again about twenty seconds later.

“ _What_?”

“Nothing. I’m just watching.”

“Watching what?”

“You.” He smiles fondly. “How do you feel?”

“I’m – you know what? I’m fucking _great_. I’ve never felt better. My mouth? It’s like –“ He stretches it open. Jack jerks forward to stop him, but before he’s up, his mouth is closed again, the gauze poking out. “It’s like a circle,” he decides.

“A – what? Okay.”

“A circle,” he says. “It’s my favorite shape.”

“Circles are great.”

“They are. Do you have a favorite shape, Jack?”

He smirks. “Not really.”

James’ bottom lip quivers a little. “You don’t?”

“No,” he laughs. “People don’t just have favorite _shapes_ , James.”

“You’re hurting my feelings,” he grumbles, his eyes brimming with tears again.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his lips curling at the corner.

“I forgive you.”

“Yeah?”

He hums softly. “Only because you’re nice to me.”

“Only that?”

“Mm. And you have good shirts.”

“You like my shirts?”

The man shrugs, pulling at the hem of his own shirt, the button at the bottom slipping out of its hold. James squints, focusing on it for a long moment. “How the hell – what even is this?”

Jack sits forward, eyebrows raising. He inhales slowly, building patience. “Hm?”

“What am I looking at? Is that – what the _fuck_ is that?”

“A – what, your shirt?”

“Oh, I _love_ shirts,” he says, looking up to him with awe.

Jack blinks, then exhales another laugh. “I know you do.”

“I love that you know that,” he says. “You know everything.”

“I don’t.”

“You know what the hell this is,” he says, holding up the bottom corner of the shirt to show off the button. “You’re so fucking smart.”

“I’m really not. No more than you.”

“Am I smart?” He fiddles with the button a little more, finally slipping it in place.

“Very.”

“That’s a relief,” he laughs.

Jack gets up from the sofa again and reaches for his hands. “It’s late, James.”

“Is it? What time is it?”

“Like 11:00PM.”

His jaw drops. “What the hell? Where did the sun go?”

“It’s night time. It’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Oh god – you swear?”

“I guarantee it.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Jack helps him stand and James leans into him for balance. They slowly make their way to the bedroom. “You could have it wrong this time. We should find it – it needs our help. Did it _die_? You can bring it back, can’t you?”

Jack pauses at the door, cupping his cheek again. “We’ll take care of everything in the morning, okay? The sun, Tink—“

“Shit. Where is she—"

“I’ve got her. Okay? Come on. When does this shit wear off?”

“I don’t know. Now? Is it happening now?”

“Almost definitely not,” he laughs. “I’m just glad nothing weird’s happened yet.”

James scoffs. “As if I would do anything _weird_.”

“I take it back. This entire thing is weird.”

He laughs only when James glares at him. “Not _you_. Just ... the situation. I’ve never seen you like this.”

“So you _don’t_ know everything,” he muses, his lips twisting upward. “Ha-ha, I got you there, Jackie.”

“Jackie?”

“Jackie Jackie. I’m gonna call you that every day from now on.”

He helps him to the bed and James sinks onto it happily, sprawling his hands out to his sides. “Okay,” Jack says, shaking his head. “Whatever you want.”

“I want to go to sleep,” he says, slowly falling back onto the bed. He stares up at the popcorn ceiling, eyes darting around to each new one he can find. “Do we live up there, Jack?”

Jack tries to follow his gaze again, brow furrowing as he tries to keep up with his train of thought. “We live right here.”

“There’s a thousand houses up there – do you see it?” He blinks a few times, then squints, then blinks again. “I need my glasses.”

“You’re wearing them.”

“I’m wearing my –“ He reaches up to touch them, then flinches. “Holy shit. I can see.”

Jack lets out another withering laugh and sits beside him. “Can we sleep?”

“Yes,” he says decidedly. “You may sleep.”

“I’m staying up as long as you do,” he says. “So you have to sleep, too.”

James presses his lips together. “If you _say_ so.”

“We’ll replace the gauze and go from there, alright?”

“Mm. I trust you.”

“Yeah? That’s good.”

He gets back to his feet to grab the supplies and James slowly sits back up, reorienting himself. He watches after Jack for a quiet moment, then lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

When Jack comes back into the room, he’s sobbing quietly, his hands spread palm-up on his lap. “What’s wrong now?”

“I just ... love you so much. Who else takes care of me like this? No one. No one does. Just you.”

Jack hums softly as he finds his way to James’ side again. “That’s my job, right?”

“No, that’s _my_ job. I’m the loyal one.”

“I’m loyal to you, too, Jamie. Here.” He helps to change the gauze.

James’ eyes widen at the vulnerability of it all, a few more tears freefalling down his cheeks. “I love you,” he says again.

“I love you, too.”

“I’ll never call you bad names again, okay?”

Jack laughs. “All right.”

“I swear it. I’m going to be so good to you always.”

“You already are good to me. I don’t need anything to change.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”


End file.
